The Shadowhunter's Trials
by SweetheartoftheSun
Summary: She crouched down into the branches and turned, slowly, to see another girl, maybe a year older than her, lovely and blond and very, very scared. Clary raised her hand, slit her eyes…And let her knife fly. / Out of 500, 50 will survive. 50 have been eliminated. 400 more will die. / The Shadowhunter Trials have begun.
1. Chapter 1

The scream that ripped through the quiet night air froze the blood in Clary's veins, but she didn't drop the gilded knife held steadily in her small hand. A puff of air escaped her lips and turned to a cloud of vapor in the icy sky, her emerald eyes wide and locked onto the dark spot in the forest from where the scream seemed to emanate. She swore under her breath and pressed against the thick trunk of the oak tree in which she was perched, hoping the shadows of the branches would protect her from the illumination of the moon.

When her heart slowed to what she deemed was a relatively normal pace, she put the blade of her knife between her teeth, reached up for the branches above her, and began to climb quietly to the highest branches of the tree. Her gear, black as a raven's crown, protected her from the eyes of her competitors—her fellow students, fellow Shadowhunters—though her fiery curls shone like a beacon to any who were looking. Only a small, white, freckled face could be seen floating above the black of her clothes, and if Clary had anything to do with it, those who saw her face in this trial would never see anything again.

From the far reaches of the tree, Clary identified points of possible threat or habitation in the rustle of a tree three miles south, the thin, climbing tendrils of smoke from a small fire, the sound of a quiet sneeze not five hundred feet behind her. She crouched down into the branches and turned, slowly, to see another girl, maybe a year older than her, lovely and blond and very, very scared.

Clary raised her hand, slit her eyes…

And let her knife fly.

* * *

_Out of 500, 50 will survive._

_50 have been eliminated._

_400 more will die._


	2. Chapter 2

Clary grimaced as she scrubbed the dried blood off of her father's knife with the filthy rag sitting to the side of the murky tub of soap and water that had been set up outside the Gard after the trial. After killing the blond girl—whose name, she knew, was Kaelie—Clary had been too on edge to try and climb out of the tree quietly in order to retrieve her knife and run back to the gate outside of the Brocelind Forest. Thus, since the knife hadn't remained in the girl's throat, and had fallen onto the ground into a pool of blood, the once slick blood had dried and practically rusted onto the smooth metal of the knife.

"Am I correct in my assumption that you were the one that so graciously took my girlfriend out of the game?" a cool, sarcastic voice intoned directly behind Clary.

She swore under her breath at his ability to sneak up on her—one of the many things that he used to drive her insane. "Better she died now, than in one of the later Trials," Clary replied indifferently, scrubbing the last bit of blood off her knife. She pulled it out of the tub and wrapped it in a soft, wool towel that she'd slung over her shoulder. She turned to look almost directly into the eyes of Jace Herondale, who was leaning nonchalantly against the wall of the Gard, twirling his own knife around in his hands and watching her.

"True," he said, unhitching himself from the wall and taking Clary's spot by the washing basin. He dropped his knife into the soapy water.

Clary raised her eyebrows and slung the towel back over her shoulder, sheathing her knife in her weapons belt. "You don't sound very—"

"Sorrowful?" Jace interjected. He started scrubbing his knife. "I don't see the point in forming attachments to anyone here, when 450 of them are going to be dead."

"Then why did you ask Kaelie to be your girlfriend?"

A small smirk tugged at the right corner of Jace's lips. "Come now, Clarissa. Surely you've been warned of the teenage boy's greatest vice?"

Clary pursed her lips in disgust. "You tricked her, is what you mean. You asked her to be your girlfriend, just so you could have sex with her whenever you wanted."

"Perhaps," he said, the smirk evident in his voice alone, "But that's what she wanted, too, keep in mind. She came onto me, first. Or rather…came _on_ me, first."

Clary made a noise of disgust and began to walk away, though Jace managed to dry off his knife and catch up to her before she'd managed to walk ten feet.

"By the Angel, would you leave me alone?" Clary practically snarled.

"You should try having sex someday," Jace said, ignoring her and sheathing his knife. "You might not be so nasty to everyone, once you manage to get laid."

"You mean, like you?"

Jace grinned. "Exactly."

Clary glared at him as they mounted the steps to the Gard together. "Except that you're nasty to almost everyone here. Everyone except Alec and Isabelle."

"I'm not nasty to you," he pointed out, reaching over her shoulder to open the door for her—earning himself another glare.

"No, you're just unbearably annoying."

"You think it's charming."

"No, I don't," Clary said, entering the Gard.

"Yes, you do," Jace argued. "You just don't know your own emotions, because you don't have any friends to help you figure out what you're feeling."

Clary looked at him, her eyes lidded. "Is that what you're doing? Helping me figure out what my feelings are?"

Jace pursed his lips. "I suppose you could say that. Really, I'm just pointing out your ignorance."

"Thank you," Clary said sarcastically, descending the steps into the center of the Council room, "For your enlightenment."

Jace grinned, following her toward the front of the room. "I know. What would you do without me?"

Clary glanced at him. "Sleep better at night."

Jace frowned and opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the Consul, who had taken the podium at the front of the room.

Dressed in ceremonial robes, he unfurled a large scroll of parchment and cleared his throat nervously. "The results are in," he announced, his voice somehow being simultaneously louder and quieter than anyone's in the entire room. "Exactly fifty two students were ki—_eliminated_—from the running. Fifty were eliminated in the Trial itself, and two died after sustaining critical injuries once they were returned to Alicante. Which means, incidentally, that in the next Trial, only 48 will be eliminated."

The room was silent with a sort of humming energy—the kind of energy only Shadowhunters, Clary had come to discover in her long years of training, could summon when in a room together—as the melee of students hushed and stood attentively listening to the Consul's grim words. Few Shadowhunter students _expected_ to survive the Trials, but many dared to hope. Making it alive past the first Trial—dubbed _The Shadow Games_ by those with a love of mundane books—only gave each surviving Shadowhunter hope.

Jace, Clary mused, glancing to her right, where he stood, no doubt combing the room with his gaze, looking for his adoptive sister, Isabelle. His older brother, Alec, had survived his Trials the prior year and had no doubt passed his sudden and infinite wisdom onto his siblings, who were two of the few that expected to survive the Trials.

Clary had to admit that she expected survival as well.

"Did you hear about the next Trial?" Jace asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear him.

"No," Clary replied shortly. "I'm not sure I want to know. That's called cheating, in case you were unaware."

"It's an unfair advantage, I'll give you that. Though I did not actively seek out advice about the Trial, if that helps any."

Clary replied with a glare.

Jace rest his arm on her head, leaning on her for support. "Come now, Morgenstern. You don't actually expect that you're going to die in the Trials."

Clary ducked under his arm, letting it drop back down to his side, her glare becoming one of anger. "Don't call me Morgenstern," she hissed.

Jace raised an eyebrow. "It's your name. I'm not sure why you insist on being called Fray."

"You know that the only reason I would get any help from my father in surviving the Trials is because it would be an embarrassment to him if his both of his children died in a series of tests that were his own creation." She grimaced and wrapped her arms around her body, watching the crowd of students as they mingled with each other, taking stock of who was still alive, and trying to figure out who had been…"eliminated."

"Jonathan—"

"Was an accident," Clary finished for him. "I know. I was told that at least fifty times at his funeral."

Jace was silent.

"It doesn't matter. I know I'm not likely to die, if only for that reason. But that isn't the point." She trained her gaze on Isabelle Lightwood, as the dark haired girl made her way through the crowd toward her brother on the steps of the Gard. "I already have my unfair advantage. I don't need another."

* * *

"Clarissa. You survived, then."

Clary clenched her jaw as she shut the front door of the Morgenstern Manor and locked it behind her. "I did," she muttered, before turning to address her father. "I even eliminated one of the other girls. Kaelie. I think she had faerie blood."

A small smile of gratification spread across Valentine Morgenstern's cold face. "Excellent. You did well."

"Is mother already asleep?"

Valentine nodded before returning his eyes to the thick notebook he had open on his lap before him. "She is. You should sleep as well. Your next Trial is in two days."

Clary cursed in her mind before nodding and padding down the dark hallway of the first floor of the house, toward the stairs. One of the aspects of the Trials was the mystery, the constant vigilance the participants were required to keep. You weren't supposed to know when the Trials took place. Clary had talked to Jace about having her one unfair advantage, but in all honesty, she had multiple advantages. Her father told her nearly everything about the Trials, despite her arguments that his 'helpful hints' were unfair.

And she already knew everything about Trial #2.

The second Trial tested the Shadowhunters' knowledge of runes. Most runes, learned from the Gray book, were harmless to Shadowhunters, and even helpful. However, about one hundred years before Clary and her generation were born, a group of Shadowhunters ingested demon blood and made themselves a race of Dark Shadowhunters. These Dark Shadowhunters created their own infernal runes that, when placed upon the skin of a being with simple angel blood and human blood, had the power to kill immediately.

In the second Trial, the Shadowhunter is given two runes. One is Angelic and one is Infernal. The Shadowhunter must choose one of the two runes, and the Angelic one is the one that must be chosen, because the rune chosen will be applied to the Shadowhunter who picked it. If they picked the Infernal Rune, they die. If they picked the Angelic Rune, they live and pass the Trial.

Clary knew every single rune in the Gray book, and she knew most of the Infernal Runes as well, despite the Council's decision to banish all mention of the Infernal race of Shadowhunters and everything they touched. Her own ancestor had, supposedly, been one of the infernal Shadowhunters, and thus sparked her father's desire to create an elaborate, deadly test that only the best and brightest Shadowhunters to survive and be employed by the Clave.

Clary fell back onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling, her mind racing and wondering and trying to forget the way Kaelie had looked up at the tree Clary was hiding in before she'd died. As if the girl with the slit in her throat were not in pain. Not scared. Not even angry.

Kaelie had looked at Clary's tree with pure disappointment.

* * *

_I pledge myself to the darkness._

_I pledge myself to freedom. _

_I pledge myself to liberation from the shackles of the Clave._

_I pledge to protect myself._

_I pledge to protect my fellow Shadowhunters instead of helpless mundanes and filthy Downworlders._

_I pledge myself to the darkness._

_I pledge myself to the Infernal Race of Shadowhunters._


	3. Chapter 3

Clary stepped out of the small, soundproof booth and inspected her _Silence _rune with a critical eye, ignoring the team of adult Shadowhunters to her left, who were pulling a badly burned student from the booth next to her. It wasn't a greatly drawn rune, but it didn't kill her. She knew it wouldn't. She wasn't given a very hard choice considering she was certain the Council knew that she already knew both the angelic runes and the infernal ones. Some of the students were given two runes that looked so similar, the slightest gap in recall of the angelic rune could cost them their lives.

Clary's two runes looked absolutely nothing alike.

She walked up to one of the Administrators of the test and held out her forearm. "Clarissa Morgenstern," she said, "Silence rune."

The Administrator nodded and scribbled something down on the clipboard of notes he was holding. "You are free to join your remaining peers on the grass near the podium," he said. "The Consul should be making his announcement of the death toll in about ten minutes."

Clary nodded and pushed her sleeve back down to her wrist, slipping her hands in the pockets of her gear and walking slowly over to the small, buzzing half circle of young Shadowhunters. Among them, she saw Isabelle, sitting next to her boyfriend of three years, Simon.

Clary smiled softly to herself. Simon and Clary had been best friends since they entered the Academy together, and after a couple years of Simon staring wistfully at the beauteous Isabelle from afar, Clary had taken advantage of her weird friendship with Jace and pushed Isabelle and Simon together. They'd been a couple ever since, and though Clary didn't get to spend as much time with Simon as she would have liked, she was happy that he'd finally found what he was looking for.

"They're disgusting, aren't they?"

Clary turned to look at Jace, who had, once again, snuck up behind her. He was watching Isabelle and Simon flirt over Clary's shoulder, his arms folded across his chest. "It's cute," she replied, looking back at her friends. "They look happy."

"Let's just hope Rat Boy doesn't slip up in the next month or so."

Clary looked at Jace again, her eyebrows raised. "If he does, there will be nothing you can do about it. He'll already be dead."

Jace shrugged. "I'll bring him back from the dead long enough to murder him again for breaking my sister's heart."

"That's sweet." Clary patted Jace sarcastically on the shoulder. "If Izzy slips up, does that mean I get to do the same thing to her, for breaking Simon's heart?"

Jace raised an eyebrow. "Not unless you want to try and kill me as well."

Clary let her head fall back as she let out a loud laugh. "I could take you easily, Herondale."

Jace smirked. "And when you use the word 'take'…how do you mean it?"

"In whatever sense is the farthest from the sexual sense," she answered quickly. "Though, if I attempted to kill you, it would probably just turn you on."

It was Jace's turn to laugh. "You're not wrong," he said. He threw his arm over her shoulders and began walking toward Simon and Isabelle. "Lots of things turn me on, but being violently and unapologetically attacked is near the top of my list."

"Ugh," Clary said, though she didn't shove his arm off her shoulder as she had two nights previous. She and Jace had always had an odd relationship. There were certainly days where she tolerated his snide remarks and dirty comments more than others, but she could never seem to be truly mad at him, or disgusted with him. They'd never hated each other (though some of their peers thought they did), but their relationship certainly wasn't close in the conventional way. They bantered a lot. They trained together more often than they did with others, insulting each other the whole way, but after training was over, they could always be found in a small café or bodega, sipping coffee and enjoying the other's company.

Clary and Jace picked their way through the small crowd of students until they reached their friends, who managed to keep their hands off of each other long enough to scoot to the side and give the other two room to sit on the grass.

"It's nice to see you both alive," Isabelle commented. "Honestly, if either of you failed this Trial, I wouldn't even mourn you. I'd just sit at your funeral and laugh about how dumb you were."

Jace took his arm from Clary's shoulder and clutched it over his heart in a gesture of mock injury. "It's nice to know that my own sister cares so much for me."

Isabelle watched him with hooded eyes.

Jace dropped the act and shrugged again. "Not that I wouldn't laugh at you if you failed this one. Don't think I wouldn't."

"We know you'd laugh at us, Jace," Simon said, looking vaguely irritated at Jace's melodramatic attitude. "You always laugh at us."

"Correction," Jace replied, holding up one finger and sitting perfectly straight. "I always laugh at _you_. I don't laugh at Isabelle very much, and Clary never does anything laugh worthy."

"You leer at me, though," Clary pointed out. "And you make fun of me a lot."

"Right once again, my carrot top friend." Jace ducked her fist. "How can I not make fun of you? You're such a bucket full of sunshine."

Clary opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the Consul clearing his throat.

"Good evening," he said, surveying the crowd that had been bigger by one hundred people only a week ago. "Good evening to the 400 of you that remain. Today, you demonstrated your knowledge of the runes you've been brought up to learn—a skill that will not only help you in battle, but also in your daily lives. The upcoming Trial increases the stakes: In the upcoming Trial, 200 of you will be eliminated."

_That doesn't make sense, _Clary thought, barely even registering that Jace had abruptly stopped tugging annoyingly on her braid. _Each Trial is only supposed to eliminate 50 students…_

The Consul cleared his throat nervously again. "In previous years, each Trial only eliminates approximately 50 students. But this year, the Council has voted for a Trial to eliminate half of the competition, and thus speed the process up.

Those of you who survive all Trials will have a purpose higher than that of your predecessors. You will be the start of a new generation of Shadowhunters, and the next Trials are specifically designed with the best, the brightest, the fastest, and the strongest in mind. So, for the upcoming Trial, which will take place one week from today, each of you will be paired with another Shadowhunter. You will be locked in a room, allotted only a seraph blade and a stele, and you will remain in the room until one of you can either kill the other, or one of you can find a way out of the room and trap the other inside of it indefinitely."

With a grim expression, the Consul clapped his hands together. "I wish you all the best of luck."

Clary swallowed hard as all around her the other students jumped to their feet with cries of indignation and desperation. This wasn't how the Trials were supposed to go. Sure, there were Trials that allowed for the students to take each other out of the running, but never, in the history of the Shadowhunters, had there been a Trial that pitted them against each other for survival. Clary doubted all 400 students would make it to next Thursday. If she had to guess, at least ten of them would either commit suicide, or be killed by their peers before they could continue to compete.

A hand swam into her vision and she looked up at Jace, who was watching her intently. "Come on," he said. "I'll walk you home."

* * *

Clary kicked a pebble off the path and into Lake Lyn, watching as the water rippled in the light of the moon. At this time next week, there would be only 200 hundred of them left, and Clary couldn't help but wonder which 200 she would be among—the living, or the dead. The next Trial was supposed to have pitted them against demons that adult Shadowhunters had trapped in various Pyxis, and Clary was prepared for that. She'd gone demon hunting with her father, with her brother, with Jace numerous times and found that she actually enjoyed it. She was good at it. She hadn't been worried about the next Trial.

But demons didn't think very well. They didn't think as strategically as a Shadowhunter did. And that made them easier to kill. Her own classmate would be much more difficult.

"It's been six years," Jace mused, his hands in his pockets.

Clary was pulled from her dark thoughts. "Hm?"

"Since I found that feather. Remember, when we were 12?"

Clary nodded solemnly, the image of a pure white feather, its quill dripping in shining gold ichor surfacing in her mind.

"Do you still have it?" he asked her.

"Of course," she said. _I have everything you've ever given to me tucked away in a box underneath my bed_. "It's in my room. Why?"

Jace's eyes wandered to where her fingers were clenching and unclenching reflexively, a habit she'd acquired because of her love to draw. She wanted to draw this moment. She wanted to draw this strange, simple moment, just the two of them walking down the lake path toward the Morgenstern Manor, talking about things only they had knowledge of, unencumbered by the watchful eyes of their peers or their family.

Jace shrugged a little belatedly. "I was just wondering."

Clary felt a leaf of hot disappointment unfurl in her chest. She'd been hoping for a different answer. She'd been developing feelings beyond simple friendship for him for about eight months now, and despite the voice in her head that told her to just tell him how she felt, she'd been putting the conversation off. She was still afraid that one of them would trip up and be eliminated from the Trials. Her heart might be easier to tape back together if he died before she let herself fully realize the extent of her feelings and act upon them.

Then again, she might die before she ever told him how she felt.

Like Kaelie. If Clary had been asked about her motives for actually killing Kaelie instead of leaving the girl to wander, terrified, through the Brocelind Forest and bring about her own demise, she wouldn't have been able to deny her ulterior motives. Clary had figured out that she felt something for Jace, something more than friendship, when he'd told her that he'd started dating Kaelie.

That had been a bad day, Clary remembered. He'd brought her to one of their group study sessions, and Clary had taken the news so badly, that she'd thrown her books at him, slammed her chair against the table (and chipped the edge), and stormed out of the library, simultaneously confused at her own anger.

Jace had been careful not to bring Kaelie to any more group events after that.

Before Clary could think of something else to talk about, they'd arrived at the drive of Morgenstern Manor. Jace leaned against the gate and peered through the iron bars his mouth crooked up at the corner. "Hold on to that feather, ok? Don't…don't get rid of it," he said.

Clary nodded.

Jace bent down and brushed his lips against her cheek, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Goodnight, little carrot top."

Clary fought back a smile. "Goodnight."


End file.
